


Midnight

by Obscured



Category: Martin (1977)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscured/pseuds/Obscured
Summary: Jill muses over her relationship with Martin





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea

Jill bedroom was stationed at the farthest left corner of the house, facing Main street. As a child, it used to bother her. The neon lights always streamed in through the blinds a bit too brightly, the sound of the train kept her awake well into the night. Voices echoed from the alley below, the sound of sirens, doors creaking open, others slammed shut made for many restless nights. 

As a teen, it really didn’t matter that much. Most of her nights were spent out exploring the city, visiting nightclubs, crashing on a friend’s couch while still, miraculously making it back in time for breakfast. Cuda was a wise man, but not a smart man. She easily perfected the craft of sneaking out without detection well before the ninth grade.  
When she decided to return home, after college, part of her sincerely asked herself what exactly she was doing. Did she really want to put herself through that again? The questions, the obligations, the feeling of being tethered to one place.. with no foreseeable escape. She decided that it was only temporary, until she got settled.

Her eyes drifted over to the figure next to her, pale skin basking under artificial light. Even in his sleep, he cradled himself protectively, arms crossed over his chest, forearm obscuring half his face, knees bent towards her in a near fetal position.   
Tentatively, she moves her hand to his brow, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Even in the dim light, her eyes move to his lashes, a dark curtain resting against porcelain skin. For a moment she feels peaceful, she leans in, close enough to feel the faint sensation of his breath. 

As a child, she always heard mention of Martin.. his side of the family. Her Godfather spoke of how they were cursed, dangerous. Mentions of words like vampire, devil, all thrown around in hushed tones, especially when he was amongst brothers from the church. She never understood any of it. The older she got, the less she understood about her family,and especially about the man who had taken her in. Part of her hated herself for wanting to escape so badly. He only wanted what was best for her. But she feared if she stayed, cooped up in that house, the things he spoke about might start to sound reasonable.

A siren blared in the distance causing him to stir. His brow furrowed a bit, breath seemed to hasten but his eyes remained shut. Look at him, how could anyone believe that he was evil, a monster. Soon his breathing returns to a steady state, and she studies him once again.

She felt awful for him sometimes, she could see how the rumors affected him. She had no idea what he had to go through before he came to live with Cuda, but whatever it was must have taken its toll. Stripped something away from him to such a degree, that now he was left, emptied, overly receptive. He clung to the negativity, absorbed it. It seemed to leave him heavy. He held onto all the words thrown at him, internalized them, maybe even believed them.She knew he believed them to a certain degree already.

Her eyes shifted to his right hand, lightly curled, resting on the pillow. She wanted to unfurl it, linking his fingers with her own. There was always this magnetic draw, a subtle urge to touch him. Be it a light caress, a pat on the back, or just running her fingers through his hair. She only wanted to protect him somehow, and now, it seemed as though she was putting him directly in harm’s way.

The train sounded again in the distance, and she could hear him murmur something softly.

“What?” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but she could see his shoulders visibly tense. Perhaps he was dreaming. Moments pass and she could feel herself start to drift off when he speaks again.

Her eyes slowly open and she focuses in on him. He’s breathing deeply, eyebrows tightly knitted together. 

“I- I didn’t do it…” He murmurs.

“Martin” She calls lightly.

His hand still rests on the pillow beside him, his fingers grip the fabric tightly. A car whizzes by in the street, momentarily illuminating the room, he turns burying his face into the crook of his arm.

“Please don’t...I-I’m sorry”

“Martin” She says, a bit louder this time… She doesn't want to risk waking up anyone else in the house, but he was sleeping quite deeply.

She quickly leans in, draping one arm across his shoulder, the other hand resting over the one that grips the pillow. She rests some of her weight on top of him holding him still. She wants to wake him, but doesn't know how he will react. She doesn’t want to risk startling him, or having him flail about. She begins rocking him gently. 

“ Shhh. It’s okay.. You’re only dreaming.” 

His words are incoherent and she rests her cheek on top of his head, whispering to him softly.  
A few moments pass. He’s not talking anymore but he’s still visibly tense, shivering. She continues to rock him, soothingly running her fingers down his back. 

“You’re only dreaming Martin… Im here..”

More sirens

She holds him still, whispering deftly, moving her fingers through his hair. Some of the tension in his muscles starts to melt away. He sniffles lightly and he pulls her close, burying his face in her chest. Dampness soaks into her skin. The train blares in the distance, light illuminating in from a passing truck causing the shadows to move and elongate across the walls. Tears prick the back of her eyes, suddenly overcome with a wave of guilt. How did she get herself into this? How did she get the both of them into this. She did not want to imagine what would happen if he ever caught on. They lived under the same roof for Christ’s sake, how could she have been so stupid? 

He seems to have calmed down now, though his fingers still gripped the hem of her shirt. In a way she knew that it was not her fault entirely, he made his intentions quite clear. But she should have known better. He’s sick…he doesn’t know what he’s doing. She made a promise to herself within a week after he moved in, she would do her best to help him, protect him if she had to. She couldn’t imagine how awful it must be for him, and she tried. What he needed was a friend. She hated herself for the ways she thought about him… But they were only thoughts. Or at least they were. He came to her door. But she let him in.

Tears were flowing down her cheeks freely now, and it wasn’t until she heard herself gasp, that she realised he was awake. She quickly rose her hand to her face wiping at her eyes. 

He began to shift . “Sorry I woke you… I think I was dreaming.” 

She quickly tried to turn her head wiping her eyes at the crook of her arm. “ No you’re fine…” She whispered hoarsely.

“Jill?” He asks, seemingly fully awake now. 

“Hmm?’’ She murmurs, keeping her face tilted away obscured from view.

“You’re crying.. Why are you crying?”

“I..Im not..” she gasps despite herself, hot tears streaming down her face.

“ Did I scare you? What did I do?” he asks, clearly sarting to panic.

“You didn’t do anything Martin… go back to sleep okay.”

He tilts her chin up to face him, fingers grazing over her cheeks briefly before moving his lips to her forehead. “Im--” She starts

“Shhh” He whispers. 

He begins raining kisses along her cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, all the while the tears flow in a steady stream. She felt so so stupid. 

“It’s okay.. He whispers, repositioning himself slightly so that their heads rest adjacently on the pillow. His fingers move to her neck,and he presses his lips to hers gently. Again. And again. His arm slips around her waist, pulling her close. Even in her distress, the feeling of being so close to him, the warmth radiating from his bare skin, his slow steady heartbeat drew her in, soothing all of her senses at once. 

She’s not crying anymore, his nose barely touches hers. His hand rests on her lower back, lightly caressing and she could feel her eyes grow heavy. 

“Do you need me to leave?” He asks finally. 

He meant back to his room.

“No.” She says after a moment

“Not yet.”


End file.
